Only Joe
by nhsweetcherry
Summary: An incident causes Adam to reflect on Joe's uniqueness.  One-shot.


3/1/2012

Adam Cartwright shook his head as he looked across the rippling mass of cattle to see his brother sitting tall in the saddle, swinging a coil of rope from one hand to keep the herd moving in the right direction, totally focused on his task. _Only Joe, _he thought. Only Joe would be back in the saddle again after what had happened ten minutes earlier.

They'd been working together near the back of the herd, one on either side, watching for stragglers trying to split off into the brush as they passed from a narrow canyon into a broad, brushy pasture. Even as Adam nudged Sport forward to turn a yearling calf back into the herd, he caught a flurry of motion out of the corner of his eye and knew that Joe was going after an escapee. Casting one more glance at his side of the herd to make sure they were in line, Adam raised his head to watch his kid brother in action – always an enjoyable sight. Though his bond with his own chestnut mount was close, Joe and Cochise were something else altogether.

Joe was leaning low over his pinto's neck, rope at the ready as he barreled up behind the fleeing cow. A big, rangy beast, the cow was still capable of amazing bursts of speed and agility. Hearing pursuit, she suddenly spun sideways, aiming for a break in the wall of brush – and stumbled as her hoof went into a shallow hole in the ground.

Adam stiffened, a shout rising in his throat, but Joe and Cochise had already seen the danger. Unfortunately, they were too close behind the cow to dodge around her. Cochise grunted as she rammed chest-first into the solid bulk of the cow and then Joe was catapulted through the air – straight into that tangle of hooves and horns as the animals tumbled head over heels. The rising dust obscured all but flashes of Cochise's black-and-white coat and the cow's shaggy red hide, with no sign of Little Joe's familiar green jacket. Adam saw and heard the scene as if in slow motion, his eyes glued to the cloud of dust as he wheeled Sport around and kicked him into a gallop, cutting around the back of the herd.

Cochise had rolled to her feet by the time he got there and was standing still, covered in dust and huffing noisily, her saddle askew. The cow scrambled up with an alarmed bawl and darted back into the safety of the herd, apparently uninjured. But Adam hardly noticed either animal. His entire attention was fixed on the figure that lay curled up in the dirt near Cochise's hooves. He leapt from the saddle and dropped to his knees by Joe's side.

"Joe!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking. His shaking hands hovered over his brother; he hesitated to turn him over, afraid of what he might find. Why was Joe curled up so tightly? Had one of those deadly horns caught him in the gut? Had a whirling hoof smashed his ribs? "Joe, can you hear me? How bad is it?"

Joe slowly uncurled enough to raise his head and blink dazedly at his brother, but then turned back over as a fit of harsh coughing overtook him.

Adam nearly groaned out loud. A punctured lung – it had to be. And they were at least a couple hours' ride from the Ponderosa…how would they ever get Joe medical help in time? His mind racing, he hardly noticed that he was nearly choking on the thick dust swirling through the air. Coughing, he bent back over Little Joe. "Just hang in there, Joe. Don't try to move yet. We'll get you to a doctor somehow!"

Joe sat up abruptly. "A doctor?" he exclaimed, coughing. "Why would I need a doctor?"

Adam gaped at him. "Why would you need a – Joe, you just got caught in a collision between a horse and a cow! You've probably got all kinds of broken bones and a punctured lung and…and…" he trailed off as he looked Joe up and down and could see no sign of blood or caved-in ribs. Indeed, Joe's color was normal and he was pushing himself to his feet with no apparent pain.

"Aw, Adam, Cochise wouldn't step on me," Little Joe said, running his hands over his horse to make sure she was all right. "I just got the wind knocked out of me a little when I hit the ground, that's all. And then I got a mouthful of dust and couldn't catch my breath." He picked up his hat and knocked the dirt off before setting it in place and tugging it to the correct angle. "You're such a worrier, Adam!" He swung easily into the saddle and trotted after the herd.

Adam noticed then that he was still kneeling in the dirt. Rising slowly, he brushed at the knees of his black pants, watching for any sign of weakness or injury as his younger brother rode away. His heart began to slow down as he realized the truth: Joe was really all right.

Joe turned back to look at him. "C'mon, Adam, you're wasting daylight!"

Adam walked like an old man as he walked to Sport and mounted up, kicking him into a trot to catch up to the herd. Though his movements were automatic as he kept the cattle from bolting, his mind was still processing what had just happened. Finally he shook his head and accepted that he could only come to one solid conclusion: _only Joe_.

As if sensing Adam's thoughts, Joe flashed him a cheeky grin from across the roiling herd of cattle – just before he and Cochise hurtled after another stray cow. Adam watched them work together perfectly to cut the cow off and send it back into the midst of the herd, enjoying the beauty of the teamwork. Only Joe could survive such an incident unscathed, he mused. Even more than that, only Joe could climb back to his feet afterward and scold Adam for being worried. Only Joe could swing back into the saddle and tear after another cow with a smile on his face.

Adam kicked Sport into a gallop as a cow on his side of the herd tried to make a break for it. They brought the cow back in and Adam cast one more glance toward Little Joe's indomitable figure across the way. A slow smile broke out over his face and he shook his head one more time. _Only Joe._


End file.
